


A Clap Of Thunder

by Semi_problematic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:19:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: Sam hated loud noises, he always had. When he was a child gun shots were more common than thunderstorms, but just as scary. Most of the time Sam was on the trigger end of the gun, gripping it in his tiny, shaking hands, but that didn't make it any less scary. Thunderstorms were still bad, though. As a child Sam would always climb into his big brothers bed whenever the storms would start. He would lift Deans arms up and wrap them around himself as he hid in his chest. No matter the noise, whether it be thunder or gunshots, Dean was always there to protect him.





	A Clap Of Thunder

Sam hated loud noises, he always had. When he was a child gun shots were more common than thunderstorms, but just as scary. Most of the time Sam was on the trigger end of the gun, gripping it in his tiny, shaking hands, but that didn't make it any less scary. Thunderstorms were still bad, though. As a child Sam would always climb into his big brothers bed whenever the storms would start. He would lift Deans arms up and wrap them around himself as he hid in his chest. No matter the noise, whether it be thunder or gunshots, Dean was always there to protect him. 

Being at Stanford was hard. He had spent his entire life hiding in his brothers chest, clinging to his arms and holding his hand. At Stanford he was on his own. It was empowering in a way, but every time a car back fired and sounded a little too close to a gunshot or thunder echoed around campus, Sam would think of Dean. Think of how his big brothers arms always made him feel safe and protected, even when he knew Dean couldn't stop a bullet or lightning. That didn't matter, though, Dean made him feel safe and thats what really mattered.

At age 35 Sam was still afraid of it. He had been on both sides of the gun, firing bullets and being shot. He had lived through a million different storms, complete with thunder and just the booming voices of people yelling at him. He had been alone during storms and been alone as he clung to a gun, but it never became less scary. Sam still felt nervous as he held the weapon in his hand. Sam still felt afraid when the fiest clap of thunder echoed throughout the town.

The bunker made it easier though. Sam could practice with his gun, try to stand up straight and not flinch when the gun went off. The thunder didn't sound as loud and if Sam really wanted to he could tune it out. That's what he did most of the time, turn his TV up a little too loud or stick headphones in and turn the music up until it couldn't get any louder. He tried, he really did try to get over the fears. He was an adult now, he needed to be over this, he wanted to be. 

When thunder began to boom outside Sam couldn't help but squirm. They had just went to bed, Sam all but carrying a stumbling, half asleep Dean to bed. Dean was probably asleep already considering Sam didn't even think he was awake when they went to bed. Sam rolled around in bed, burying his face in his pillow and clinging to the sheets. He turned the TV on and watched Game of Thrones then turned on classical music on the highest volume. Nothing was working and sleep was far from happening. Finally, Sam laid onto his back, closing his eyes and rubbing his face. 

Climbing out of bed, Sam tucked his hair behind his ears and rubbed his eyes with one hand. The floor was cold underneath his bare feet, but Sam was too tired to move any faster. He hated how far away Deans room was from his own. Dean said he liked the space and Sam agreed because it was easier to nod and smile than to admit that he wanted Dean to be close no matter what. Deans door was closed, no light peeking out from the cracks under the door. 

Sam felt like a child when he curled his fingers around the doorknob and slowly turned it. He stepped slowly through Deans room, holding his hands out around him so he didn't trip and fall or run into anything. The childlike nostalgia soon fled from Sams body, quickly being replaced with a feeling of foolishness. He was being childish. In his late thirties he should not run to his brother, but his brother was the only thing that could make him feel better.

His hands were shaking more than they did the first time he held his gun as he reached out and grabbed the blankets. He lifted them up and slowly climbed underneath, the bed creaking underneath his weight. Quietly, Sam began to curse at himself under his breath. He sunk into the bed, pulling the blankets up over his hips and stomach. Dean was asleep next to him, eyes closed and mouth hanging slightly open. Just like when they were kids. 

Sam shifted closer to Dean, slowly, rolling onto his side. Blindly, he reached out behind him and wrapped his fingers around Deans wrist, pulling Dean onto his side so his arm could wrap around his waste. Dean was breathing against his neck in small sighs and his chest pressed against the back of Sams back. It wasn't very comfortable for either of them considering how much Sam had grown, but it was still Dean. And Dean was safety. Home. 

Sam pressed his face against one of Deans pillows, taking a deep breath. He curled up against Dean, closing his eyes and listening to the soft patter of rain on the roof. Thunder clapped but Sam didn't shake. He didn't flinch nor cry. All he did was snuggle closer to Dean. And maybe Sam was just sleep deprived, but it felt like Dean snuggled closer, too.


End file.
